The Big fat Indian Wedding

I know that the first question that will come to your mind after reading this blog is that why did I go to this wedding at all, so I am going to answer that first, it was a dear cousin’s wedding and in my defence, i was not aware of the risks that I was taking.

Anyways, the wedding started with the pre- marital ceremony called “Sagan”. As soon as I entered the Gurudwara I could feel all eyes on me, Ok granted, some of them were seeing me after ages and were actually using all their logics to figure out whose daughter I was. As soon I was seated, conscious that all my movements were being observed, I was pounded upon by the ladies who claimed to be my distant yet concerned relatives.

It took me less than five minutes to make an excuse and get out of there, I decided to go and sit with my cousin (the one who was getting married) who, like me, was trying to avoid the relatives but much to my dismay he was called and we were made to sit in the front. As soon as the ceremony ended and we proceeded for lunch I tried desperately to look for a known face before I could be a caught in a guessing game which my relatives love to play (mujhe pehchana? mein tumhara chacha, bua , tau). Awkward smiles, stolen glances, desperate attempts to avoid anyone more than 80 kgs (for fear of being pounded upon) which, considering it was a punjabi wedding was a cumbersome task.

Then, it started, “so, when do you plan to get married? I thought you’d marry before your brother? Working? In NOIDA?? YOU STAY IN A FLAT?? Considering these reactions, I would have been easily blamed for any stroke they got that day while it would actually have been from all the oily food that they were stuffing in. Again, awkward smiles, and desperate attempts to walk out of there. Somehow, swallowed my lunch and begged my mom to leave so that I could get a few minuted of peace at home but God had other plans. As soon as I settled down to sleep in a far corner of a room, I was brutually reminded that I had come to attend a wedding and apparently, sleeping in a wedding is a punishable offence.

Then started the ‘what they called’ Sangeet, which to be honest was quite entertaining( I an after alll a Punjabi) and I was enjoying all this from a far corner of the room where I was comfortable hiding behind my mom. tThen it started, one after the other my long lost cousins starting pouring in, one of whom was younger to me, with kids in their lap, looking like they’ve just walked out of an Ekta Kapoor serial, their mothers along them with their chest full of pride for their daughters, reason? her daughter became a mother in the first year of her marriage. I am sure she would not have been shocked had I told her that her daughter was nominated for a “Bharat Ratan”. My bechari mom, feeling a little out of place tried to match them by telling me “look at them, they look so well dressed, why don’t you dress up like them, but I subsided her excitement by replying “what about the kids they have? How do I match that?

The night passed somehow and the next morning I was awakened by ladies rushing here and there mostly looking for some thing for their husbands and their husbands looking for them. The wedding.. aah.. even more relatives, more stares making me even more uncomfortable. I tried convincing my dad to let me go but apparently we have the same blood group so none of us gave up till the end, I kept asking him to let me go, he kept ignoring me( Well done Dad). I sat with him for 10 mins, by then he had showed me around 10 people who wanted to get their sons married to me. By then I decided that my mom was a better company and stuck with her for the rest of the ordeal. I also offered mom a drink, told were it would help beat the boredom but she thought I was joking and stared smiling. (What??) I didn’t have the guts to tell her I was not.

I wish my cousin a very happy married life and through this blog I want to tell him, what I had to go through for his wedding!! Buy me a nice gift when we meet next. You owe me one!!